


Make Me Feel Something

by softandrew



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Description of Mental Illness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Mental Illness, Porn With Plot, andrew taking care of Garrett (a kink), sad!garrett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softandrew/pseuds/softandrew
Summary: It was still fairly new to both of them, this added bonus to their relationship — Garrett letting Andrew take care of him, Andrew making sure Garrett could breathe again.





	Make Me Feel Something

•••

It was still fairly new to both of them, this added bonus to their relationship — Garrett letting Andrew take care of him, Andrew making sure Garrett could breathe again.

The first time Andrew had fucked Garrett, Garrett hadn't spoken in 2 days and hadn't gotten out of bed in 3 and he couldn't breathe deep enough so all he could do was take shallow gasps that sounded like he was dying and Andrew had to spoon feed him mashed potatoes. 

"Garrett, baby, you've got to eat." Andrew begged very rarely and he only did it when he was worried and Garrett hadn't eaten since Monday and now it was Thursday and he'd only seen him like this one other time and they don't talk about that.

Garrett didn't move. A raspy breath, a cough and a whimper and Garrett's eyes barely open to look at Andrew. He merely closes them back without acknowledging what Andrew had said and pursed his lips closed tightly. 

Andrew sighs and places the mashed potatoes on the bedside table. 

"Garrett, please, please tell me what's wrong." Andrew gasps this out, raspy like Garrett's breath and bordering on a sob. 

"Garrett, Garrett, please. You're scaring me." His legs straddle Garrett's waist and his ass rests at the bottom of Garrett's stomach and he places his hands on either side of his face and his eyes well with tears and will Garrett to say something, anything. 

"I'm so scared I'm going to lose you, Garrett. Please tell me what I have to do to make sure I don't lose you. Please, babe, please. I love you so much and right now I don't think you know that but I know you're still in there and I know there's something that's wrong but I can't help you if you don't tell me." 

Garrett's eyes water but his face is expressionless, his eyes deep and dark and his mouth is in a frozen line and Andrew just sobs into Garrett's chest, clutching his boyfriend's shirt. 

"Garrett, please," he chokes out, his own eyes closing now as he breaths in Garrett's musk. 

"Andrew." Garrett's voice comes out as a croak of hoarseness and Andrew nearly squeezes him to death. 

"Water," he begs and Andrew has never gotten up so fast. A moment later and he's pouring half a bottle of water into Garrett's mouth and then he's arranging pillows behind Garrett's head to help him sit up so he could eat. 

Andrew climbs into bed later, a heating pad in tow and he lays it over Garrett's chest. Garrett's right shoulder rests against Andrew's chest and Andrew holds him close, pulling the weighted blanket over the both of them. 

"Can I have a Xanax, Andrew?" Garrett whispers this, almost afraid that Andrew will tell him no. 

"Will it help you?" And that was new. Garrett wasn't used to Andrew asking this, and he wasn't quite used to answering it truthfully. 

"I— no. I need to be awake. I'm tired of sleeping." 

Garrett burrows deeper into Andrew's arms and Andrew wraps them tighter around him. He reaches over to the table beside him and picks up the Apple TV remote and puts on their quiet sleep playlist.

"Was it something I did, Gare? How can I help fix it," he murmured into Garrett's hair. Fingers trace up and down Garrett's arm and he feels rackety breaths coming from his boyfriend but he is just so thankful he' s breathing at all. 

"It wasn't anything you could have stopped, Andrew, I -- Sometimes the sadness just gets really overwhelming and everything stops to make sense and then suddenly I've been in bed for 3 days and I don't know how to get out. It's... Andrew it scares me sometimes. I'm afraid I won't be able to get out one day." The last bit is whispered quieter than anything Andrew has every heard Garrett say. His heart stops for a moment and he squeezes Garrett so tight that Garrett has to push against Andrew to keep his boyfriend from suffocating him. 

"Garrett, I want to help. Tell me what I can do." 

Garrett is quiet for a long time. Andrew thinks he's fallen asleep until Garrett sits up and turns in Andrew's lap, straddling him as Andrew had earlier. He says loud and clear, something he never imagined Garrett would ask him.

"Fuck me, Andrew." It's firm, and sure, and confident and Andrew almost doesn't ask Garrett if he's sure.

Then he remembers that his boyfriend has essentially risen from a coma and he has to regain control of himself long enough to tell him, "No, Gare. Abos-- Absolutely not."

Garrett shakes his head and he looks healthier than he has in weeks. "Drew, please. I-- I need this. Take care of me, please. Make me feel something, make me feel like me again, Andrew. Make me feel anything that's not my own fucking heart beating in my head."

Andrew's own heart jumps at this and he kisses Garrett fiercely, scrambling to grip Garrett's face and thread his fingers through Garrett's curls. 

"Fuck, Gare," he mutters against Garrett's lips; Garrett's scruff grazes against Andrew's cheek and he shivers. A whimper from Garrett sends chills down Andrew's back and he scoots them both down, flipping over so that he hovers over Garrett's chest. 

"You're sure?" He asks again, praying Garrett hasn't changed his mind now.

"Positive. Please, Drew. Make me feel like myself again," he whispers, kissing Andrew again.

Gulping, Andrew fumbles in their bedside table and pulls out a condom and a bottle of lube and laid them beside Garrett. His fingers struggle with the hem of Garrett's shirt and he has to take a steadying breath of his own. He pulls Garrett's shirt gently over his head, breathing out a sigh at his boyfriend under him.

"I love you," Andrew whispers, in awe of just how beautiful Garrett looks. "I love you so much, so fucking much." It comes out choked up and maybe Andrew will kick himself for being sentimental while they're fucking but he knows Garrett loves it and he knows Garrett needs this right now. Needs to be reminded that Andrew is still very much in when it feels very much like the whole world is against him.

Garrett whines and scratches at Andrew's bare back and pushes at his jogging pants so Andrew will take the hint and finish pushing them down. He does and his cock presses against the fabric of his briefs and Garrett's mouth waters.

"Fuck, Andrew," and Garrett fucking purrs his name.

Andrew pushes Garrett's boxers down and smirks when Garrett whines again. Andrew mouths at Garrett's nipple and takes the other on in his hand and feels it pebble between his fingers. Garrett is writhing below him but it's the most human-like he's seen Garrett in a long time and he's not letting this stop anytime soon.

He kicks the blankets away somewhere and kisses down Garrett's body, following the patchy hair that lines his stomach and stops just above where his stomach dips into the space right above Garrett's cock and Garrett just whimpers, begging under his breath for Andrew to do something to him.

"Andrew, fuck, fuck, need your mouth, please, please," he grunts out. Andrew kisses the inside of Garrett's thighs and just moves back up to Garrett's mouth. 

"Shh, baby, let me do this." It's not as gentle as before and Garrett's breath hitches. It's a tone he hasn't heard Andrew use before and he's intrigued and more than mildly turned on. His cock jumps and he thrusts up to get a little friction on Andrew's crotch. Their cocks graze together, Andrew's hard clothed one giving Garrett the perfect amount of pressure and he arches his back. 

Andrew's arm lays across Garrett's chest and he presses down, making sure Garrett's back is against the bed. "Don't move." He uses the firm voice again and Garrett nods, squeaking out a mildly sarcastic "yes sir," but when he sees the way Andrew's face pales and then his cock twitches he knows Andrew likes it and he files that away for use later. 

Andrew grabs the lube from beside them and squeezes some onto his fingers. He massages it into his middle and forefinger with his thumb to warm it up before pressing his middle finger against Garrett's hole. He hears Garrett gasp and he pushes the tip of it in, just to the first knuckle. Garrett is so tight, and he squeezes around Andrew's finger and Andrew has to fight for every breath he takes thinking about fucking Garrett in just a few minutes.

He pushes the finger farther in, mesmerized with the way Garrett's hole envelopes it and clamps down tightly around it. He waits a moment before pulling it out and pushing it back in gently. He fucks Garrett with his finger, inserting another one when he thinks Garrett's ready for it.

Garrett moans under him, writhing every time Andrew hits his prostate. 

"Andrew-" It's breathy and desperate but Garrett moaning his name has Andrew pushing in another finger so fast he's worried it hurt Garrett. If the way Garrett's hands fist in the sheets beside him is any indication, Garrett's enjoying this and needs Andrew. 

"Does it feel good, Gare? My fingers inside of you?" Garrett nods hastily, eyes squinted shut and he clenches around Andrew. 

Andrew scissors his fingers, twisting them to hit Garrett's prostate and when he finds it he knows because Garrett lets out the prettiest whine. 

"So good, Gare, are you ready?" Andrew has pushed a third finger inside and he knows Garrett is almost ready. 

"Ye— Yes, yes yes, Andrew, please, fuck me." Andrew's breath catches and he has to pause for a moment to collect himself. He pulls his boxers off and kicks them to the other side of the room and rolls the condom on his cock and suddenly he's at Garrett's entrance and Garrett's huffing out little moans and when Andrew pushes in everything is quiet. 

He sits for a moment, letting Garrett adjust, petting his boyfriend's hair, kissing him softly. 

"Okay, Okay, Andrew, move, please." And Andrew doesn't need to be told twice. 

He pulls out, until just the tip of his dick is inside Garrett and pushes back inside, establishing a rhythm quickly. He holds Garrett's legs around his waist and presses chaste kisses to Garrett's neck. Any way he can touch Garrett he does. He knows this is what Garrett needs to feel like himself again. He just wished he'd thought of it sooner. 

Soon they're both panting and Garrett's hand is around his cock and Andrew swats him away, taking Garrett's cock in his own hand and jerking it in time with his thrusts. Garrett's head is pressed so hard into the pillows behind him that Andrew is surprised he's not given himself a concussion. Andrew fucks into Garrett and he knows every time he hits Garrett's prostate because Garrett just falls apart, whimpering and breathing out Andrew's name and Garrett is never loud during sex but these breathy little moans are going to send Andrew straight to his grave. 

Andrew moans when Garrett comes, tightening around his cock and shooting spurts of cum over Andrew's hand and their stomachs and it's all too much for Andrew and he cums too, leaning down to kiss Garrett as he spills inside the condom. 

"Fuck, Gare, fuck, fuck. You're so beautiful, God you're so good," and Andrew spews nonsense while Garrett finishes, his hands wrapped tightly around Andrew's thighs, nails pushing into the flesh and Andrew is completely overwhelmed with thankfulness and exhaustion. 

He pulls out of Garrett, ties up the condom, and patters to the bathroom, warming up a cloth with hot water and comes back with it. He wipes it over Garrett, collecting his cum and sweat in it. He tosses it in the bin after wiping himself off and climbs in beside Garrett. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he murmurs into Garrett's ear. He cries a little, when Garrett smiles at him blearily and thanks whatever deity did this that Garrett is with him for just a little while more. 

He just had to catch it sooner next time. 

•••

Which was how they got here, where Andrew kissed Garrett's neck as he climbed in behind him. He had run the bath water in their big hotel tub 20 minutes ago, and still it was scalding, burning Andrew's skin and sending steam into the vents above them. He pulled Garrett's back against his chest and ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair. 

"Are you feeling any better, babe?" The question had left his mouth at least 14 times since they'd gotten to the hotel two days ago. Shane had ordered Andrew, in his strictest dad voice, to take Garrett somewhere far away from LA before he spiraled completely into another comatose depressive episode. 

So, they'd come to a little town not far from Seattle but far enough away that Garrett could feel like he could breath again and the air was clean and there was no traffic and they could walk to the corner and catch a trolley to dinner and Andrew really never wanted to go back. 

More kisses down Garrett's shoulder and he only "harumphed," at Andrew, slumping his head down so his chin met his chest and his eyes closed tightly. 

"Migraine again?" 

A simple shake of Garrett's head. 

"I can't clear my head, Andrew. There's so much and I don't have anything to worry about but I just can't slow it down and it hurts," he choked out, knees against his chest and head between them. Andrew tried his best to wrap his arms all around Garrett but could only get them around his chest. 

"I brought some wine, Gare. Let me pour you a glass," he murmured, a soft palm flattening Garrett's sweat soaked hair to his head. 

Garrett shook his head again.

"Not with the meds," he whispered. Andrew could only sigh and rest his chin on Garrett's shoulder. A gentle hand glided from Garrett's thigh to the top of his ribs and back down again until goose pimples raised on his skin and Andrew felt his nipples harden against Garrett's back. 

A faintly moaned "Andrew," slipped from Garrett's lips and he threw his head back onto Andrew's shoulder. 

"What is it, baby, what do you need?" A soothing tone and more lilting of his fingers and Garrett huffed our a tiny groan, still not speaking.

But Andrew knew exactly what it was, exactly what Garrett needed to feel better, but it could only work the way Andrew needed it to if Garrett knew it too. 

"Mhmm, Drew, please just — ah." Garrett's voice hitched when Andrew traced his finger from Garrett's thigh to his hole, teasing the tip of it at the brink of Garrett's ass. 

"Tell me what you need, Gare," he instructed, voice firm and quiet against Garrett's ear. Andrew's breath came out hot and his beard scratched at Garrett's face and Garrett could feel himself getting hard. 

Andrew peppered kisses down the side of his face, getting to his jaw and nipping at the skin there. He sucked a love bite just below the junction where Garrett's jaw met his neck and felt Garrett loosen up and fall back against Andrew. 

"Please, Drew, I— just— fuck me." The last part was whimpered in a voice that sounded as if Garrett couldn't believe he was able to ask for this. 

Andrew presses his finger into Garrett's hole slowly, watching as his boyfriend fell apart because of his fingers. 

"Here?" He asked softly, and Garrett only murmured out a nearly inaudible "Yes."

Andrew kissed the back of Garrett's neck and bit into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, licking over the mark to soothe it. 

"So beautiful, Gare. Your skin, your body, I love you."

"Love you," Garrett whispered back to him. His fingers grasped at Andrew's legs bracketing him and truly the tub wasn't long enough for them but they were making it work. 

Reaching for the lube beside them, Andrew pulled out his finger and squirted a generous amount into his palm, rubbing it in before reaching back to Garrett's hold and pushing in two fingers. Garrett whines, high and loud and his head rested on Andrew's shoulder. A stolen kiss and one more finger and Garrett was begging Andrew to fuck him. 

"Okay, baby, okay," he murmured. Andrew helped Garrett sit up and positioned him so that he sat between his legs hovering over Andrew's cock. Easing him down, Garrett moaned and Andrew's voice cracked with a whine. 

"Gare, fuck."

"Andrew."

Andrew stroked Garrett's cock while they waited for Garrett to adjust, short sloppy movements that had Garrett begging for Andrew to thrust into him.

Andrew grabbed Garrett's hips and pulled him up, then back down, meeting Garrett's hips with his own thrust and Garrett moaned again. 

They found a rhythm, Garrett make-shift riding Andrew and Andrew fucking into him, trying his best to make this good for Garrett. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub and onto the floor, pooling in little puddles around the bathroom. They were slick from the lube and the bubbles but Andrew didn't care; he could barely hold on to Garrett's hips but he tried his best, fucking harder into Garrett when he could keep his grip. 

"Gonna come, Drew," Garrett murmured out hoarsely. Andrew could her the desperation in his voice and he reached around to press Garrett's nipple between his finger. Neither of them had touched Garrett's cock until Garrett reached down and cupped his hand over it, jerking up once, twice and then he was coming. 

White streaks of cum shot into the water and Andrew bit into Garrett's neck when he came. 

They sat like that for a moment, Andrew still pulsing inside of Garrett, Garrett panting and trying his best to catch his breath. 

"I love you, thank you. Thank you for making me feel like a person again," Garrett whispered over and over, tears coming out of his eyes as the litany left his lips. He was so grateful, so thankful Andrew knew exactly what to do and exactly when to do it.

"You're welcome, Gare, fuck, I love you. Let's get you cleaned up and in bed, Okay?" Andrew pressed gentle kisses to Garrett as he pulled him out of the tub. He had to help Garrett remember how to walk to get him dried off and into the bedroom, but it was worth it when Garrett curled into Andrew's side of the bed and took his pillow. 

Andrew climbed in not long after, knee wedges between Garrett's thighs and hand trailing through Garrett's mused hair. 

"I love you, Gare. I love you, I'm so sorry I let it get this bad, I'm going to get better. I promise." And he meant it. He'd noticed the signs of Garrett slipping but he hadn't done anything about it, too preoccupied with filming and editing to notice what the long hours away from Garrett were doing to his boyfriend. 

They were a little codependent. Kill them. 

"It's okay, Andrew. You're doing your best, that's all I need. I love you."

A gentle kiss to Garrett temple and he was drifting off, bare chest warm against Andrew. 

Andrew prayed the shutter on his camera didn't wake Garrett up when he snapped a picture for the group chat and sent it with a simple message. 

Thank you.


End file.
